Page 51 of The Beast's Broken Angel
Viktor followed.
And the room still pulsed with the aftertaste of dominance, humiliation, and a hunger that hadn’t yet found its end.
“Your nurse is becoming ratherinvolved in operational decisions,” Harrison noted hours later, pouring aged whiskey into crystal tumblers. “Remarkable transition from hospital corridors to criminal enterprise. Most civilians require months to adapt to our methods.”
I accepted the drink without tasting it, old habits of caution. “He provides unique perspective. His suggestion to target Turner infrastructure rather than families shows utility beyond medical skills.”
“Perspective can be valuable,” Harrison conceded, studying me over his glass. “But attachment is dangerous. I've observed how you watch him, Adrian. The interest exceeds professional evaluation.”
The presumptuous observation would have earned death from anyone else. From Harrison, it warranted consideration. But something about his eagerness to point this out, his suddenconcern about my judgement, raised old suspicions I'd been trying to ignore.
“Professional interest only,” I replied, though we both knew it was a lie.
Harrison's smile was knowing. “Of course. Though I'd advise caution. Emotional attachments create vulnerabilities that enemies will exploit.”
Before I could respond, his secure phone rang. He answered with characteristic brevity, expression shifting from mild interest to sharp focus.
“Understood,” he said finally. “Prepare the evidence package. I'll review it immediately.”
He ended the call, turning to me with an expression of grave concern mixed with something like sympathy.
“We've identified the information leak,” he said carefully. “You should prepare yourself, Adrian. It's someone close to you.”
Ice formed in my chest. “Who?”
“It's easier to show you than explain,” Harrison replied, moving toward the massive display screen. “The security team completed their analysis an hour ago. The results are concerning.”
He activated the system, Ravenswood's internal security footage filling the wall. The timestamp showed 2:17 AM—during the attack, when I'd been responding to the emergency.
“Facial recognition confirms identity,” Harrison stated. “The subject accessed restricted areas during the attack, when security protocols should have prevented such movement.”
The figure on screen moved with purpose, navigating corridors with familiarity. They bypassed cameras with professional skill, avoided sensors with training that suggested military background.
“Here,” Harrison said, pausing at a frame showing the intruder's profile.
Noah's face stared back at me from the frozen image.
But something was wrong. The eagerness in Harrison's voice, the convenient timing of this revelation right after I'd shown interest in Noah's strategic thinking. My old suspicions about Harrison's loyalty came flooding back—the subtle manipulations, the way he always seemed to benefit from crises, his insistence on handling intelligence personally.
“When was this footage recovered?” I asked carefully, not letting my suspicion show.
“This morning, after the security sweep.”
“And who conducted the analysis?”
“My team, obviously. The same specialists who handle all our intelligence gathering.”
Of course. Harrison's team, Harrison's evidence, Harrison's convenient revelation at exactly the moment when Noah had started offering alternatives to Harrison's preferred strategies. The timing was too perfect, the evidence too clean.
I studied the frozen image more carefully. Something about the body language, the way the figure moved through the corridors. It was Noah's face, but was it Noah's movements?
“I want to see the raw footage,” I said. “All of it. From multiple camera angles.”
Harrison's expression flickered—just for a moment, but I caught it. Surprise, perhaps annoyance. “Of course, though I'm not sure what additional perspective...”
“Humour me.”
As he manipulated the controls, I made my decision. Harrison had been positioning himself as my most trusted advisor for years, handling intelligence, managing crises, always there with the perfect solution at the perfect moment. But whatif those crises weren't random? What if Harrison was creating problems only he could solve?
